The nine plays selected here are from my first decade of theater texts; the final play, Oven (A Temporary Setback) has evolved to become the first half of a larger play currently (March ’07) in progress.
I have the definite sense and intention that the nine plays here are a completed cycle. I collect them under the title Suntapes.

Reading through these texts, you may notice many, or all, seem to end just as they’re about to begin.
My theater is very much an exploration of traumatic time, it seems. Time that only begins after it's ended. And which resists telling or representation. Resists, doesn’t prevent. I suppose, in the classic sense, these texts are a performance of this resistance.
What is striking to me about these plays is the hunger the inhabitants have, the inhabitants of this world have, to speak. And that language, for the most part, defies them.

Early on, in Sap, I heard an inhabitant articulate it clearly: “avoid telling the story at all cost.” This seems to have been the collective strategy for survival – for power – of the inhabitants of this world. My intuition tells me the next cycle of plays will be actively resisting this resistance. My fear is it will be to the detriment of their truth. My hope is that that, too, will be told.
As is wished for, longed for, imagined, and demanded at the end of Oven:

McRaston
We’ll have a life we’ll have a life we’ll have a life. Life life life life life. Story after story after story, story story story story story story story. Stories. That’s why we’re here. Stories. Story story story story story story story story. Go and do and see and laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. Go and do and come and go and go and do and be. Go and do and see and laugh and fuck and run and tell, tell everyone, tell everything, tell. We’ll tell and tell and tell and tell til the telling will explode. And then what’s inside the telling will tell.

A debt of gratitude to the actors who embodied and will embody these worlds, these words.

I trust with my life the inhabitants of this written world, and am pleased at the thought that you are, here, poised to meet them, if you choose.